


Purpose

by gay_jeans



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: BlackIce, Dancing, Domestic, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, One-Shot, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 20:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16271360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_jeans/pseuds/gay_jeans
Summary: “Ever danced before?”“I don’t… dance,” Pitch allows the word to escape past lips that used to restrain the use of any sort of expression of joy. Since Jack wormed his way into his heart, though, he found it impossible to keep that level of emotion locked away.A warm smirk crosses Jack’s face, his eyes soft. “Well, that’s gonna change. Elvis wasn’t a romantic for nothing.”





	Purpose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abyssith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyssith/gifts).



> YALL I JUST REALIZED HOW SCREWED UP THE LYRICS WERE WHEN I ORIGINALLY WROTE THIS I THOUGHT I REMEMBERED THEM WELL ENOUGH BUT I WAS WRONG SO I FIXED THEM

“Ever danced before?”

The question throws Pitch off-guard. It almost misses him completely, as if the question was meant for someone else, and he could continue soaking in the chilling novel from stiff, old pages. But that voice could grip his attention anytime, anywhere. He looks up to see Jack’s big, blue, doe eyes gazing at him from above the vinyl record player across the living area. The young spirit’s fingers ghost over vintage albums blindly; Jack insists on keeping them arranged in a certain manner that Pitch is sure he knows exactly what artist is offering what music underneath the pads of his fingers from sheer memory.

“I don’t… _dance_ ,” Pitch allows the word to escape past lips that used to restrain the use of any sort of expression of joy. Since Jack wormed his way into his heart, though, he found it impossible to keep that level of emotion locked away.

A warm smirk crosses Jack’s face, his eyes soft. “Well, that’s gonna change. Elvis wasn’t a romantic for nothing.” Still keeping his gaze on Pitch, he plucks an album up — true to his word, The King with a ukulele in hand graces the cover.

He closes the book and sets it aside, but settles further into the sofa and crosses his arms as a sign of obstinance in his statement. “I don’t dance, Frost.”

“It’s not like I know how to, either,” Jack says. “But there’s nothing better than learning with someone you love.”

The smile remains on his face as he finally turns away, only to remove the record and put it in place. When the needle comes down, a sweet and somehow nostalgic piano melody begins to waft through the air. And Jack, with those nimble legs and graceful posture, carefully skips and pirouettes to Pitch’s position.

With a snap, a gentle burst of wonder and joy and _fun_ dusts across his face. “Let’s figure it out together, okay?”

_Wise men say  
_

And despite any previous distaste he had towards... _dancing_ , he can’t help but accept Jack’s outstretched hand as he pulls himself to his full height, a foot over the younger spirit’s head, and he _smiles_. Not a face-whitening, feral grin, but a gentle curve of the lips, inspired by and dedicated to the love of his life that was Jack Frost. And it’s so worth it — because Jack smiles back, content and happy.

_Only fools rush in  
_

It’s true, there’s a part of him that is bewildered by this turn of events. _I’m the Boogeyman, for crying out loud!_ He’s the embodiment of fear and anxiety. To dance is to oppose his nature. His reason for existence.

_But I can’t help_

His hands are awkward and questioning, but the fingers on one hand lace through Jack’s while the others rest on a bony hip hidden by the soft material that is the blue sweater. It’s then that they feel at place. Then they begin to sway, gently and to the rhythm of the music. And when the lyrics speak what’s on their hearts, and Jack rests his head against his chest, and warmth and love and joy and peace surge over Pitch’s soul like a breath of air after a lifetime of drowning, that’s when he realizes it. Maybe his purpose in life isn’t to provoke fear.

_Falling in love with you_

Maybe this is his reason for existence.


End file.
